A Dagger I See Before Me
by ScopesMonkey
Summary: Dr. Julian Bashir must choose between the life of an old friend and a medical discovery that could change the course of human history.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note:_ This takes place in season 3, toward the end of the season. I wrote this before seeing the Enterprise episode "Affliction", which deal with a similar theme. The story is strange, but hey, it's sci-fi.

September 26, 2005: A big thanks to whoever put this on The beautiful Dr. Julian Bashir C2! I just noticed it was there. I am honoured.

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, or its characters, or settings, etc. I am not making any money from this. I do, however, own Lieuntenant Commander Shannon Tanner, Lieutenant T'Sarak and all other original characters.

1

It began, as most things did in this sector, with the Dominion.

Starfleet had ordered the _Defiant_ into the Gamma quadrant, to evacuate any nearby Federation ships, and to carry out rescue operations if necessary.

The mission made Dr. Julian Bashir tense enough as it was.

There was a Vulcan science ship somewhere over here; it had been in the Gamma quadrant for eleven months now.

Fifteen Vulcan crew members, and one human.

"Scan the area for Federation warp signatures," Commander Sisko directed as Bashir stood near the back of the bridge, trying to hide his apprehension. To his relief, everyone was so occupied with the mission and keeping the cloak running at peak efficiency that no one was paying him any attention.

"There's an Andorian research ship orbiting an L-class planet in the next system," Dax replied.

"Hail them."

"Channel open."

"Keep scanning for other ships," Sisko said. "Andorian vessel, this is Commander Benjamin Sisko of the USS _Defiant._ Please respond."

There was a moment of silence, then the screen jumped to life, revealing the blue face and white-blond hair of an Andorian male.

"This is Captain Viryl of the Andorian ship _Ikilli_. What can I do for you?"

"The Federation has issued a recall of all ships in the Gamma quadrant. The area has become unstable."

"We haven't noticed any activity here at all," Viryl replied.

"Perhaps not, but there is a political organization in this sector that is causing trouble for the Alpha quadrant. It would be in the best interests of you and your crew to return to Federation space. Deep Space Nine can, of course, accommodate you for as long as you'd like."

Viryl was silent for a moment, then made a gesture to someone off screen.

"Very well, Commander," he agreed. "We've just finished our scans of this system anyway. Will you be accompanying us?"

"No, but the station has been notified to welcome any returning Federation ships."

"Thank you. I expect we'll see you there shortly," Viryl said, then signed off. Sisko looked over at Dax. Bashir felt as if they'd been granted a moment of peace that would crumble if anyone breathed too loudly or too deeply.

"They're setting course for the wormhole and they've gone to warp."

"Good," Sisko said. "Anyone else out there?"

"I'm not picking up– wait," Dax said and Bashir felt himself tense again. "We're receiving an automated distress signal. It's Vulcan."

"Put it through," Sisko ordered as Bashir felt his heart skip a beat. He closed his eyes.

The message came in through thick static.

"This is the Vulcan science ship _T'Kail_ to any Federation vessel within range. We are under attack and require immediate assistance. Repeat, this is the Vulcan science ship _T'Kail _to any Federation ship within range. We are under attack and require immediate assistance."

"No," Bashir said aloud without meaning to.

Sisko swiveled in his chair, caught the stricken look on his CMO's face, and turned back to his science officer.

"Where are they?"

"Two light years from here," Dax replied.

"Red alert. Set a course, maximum warp. Engage when ready. Mr. O'Brien, make sure that cloaking device holds up. I don't want the Jem'Hadar spotting us. Major, try hailing the _T'Kail_. Doctor, get down to the medical bay and get ready for casualties."

Bashir nodded, trying to keep his heart steady, trying to breathe properly. He raced to the medical bay as fast as possible, hampered by the set pace of the turbolifts. Inside, Dr. Ilia was already setting up, aided by the two nurses they had brought along.

Bashir didn't believe that two light years at warp nine could pass by so slowly.

He felt the ship drop out of warp and braced himself mentally, hitting his combadge.

"Bashir to Dax. How many life signs?"

"Sixteen," Dax replied and Bashir had to grab a biobed to keep himself on his feet as relief hit him. "Fifteen Vulcans, one human."

"Thank God," Bashir muttered to himself.

"Doctor?", asked Nurse Nadir.

"I'm all right," Bashir assured her.

He felt the _Defiant_ shudder as it was hit by what he presumed to be a Jem'Hadar weapon. Slight movements he'd grown used to told him that the ship was entering evasive maneuvers.

"Sisko to Bashir, we're beaming them all directly to sickbay!", came the commander's voice across the comsystem.

"Acknowledged!", Bashir returned as the _Defiant _shuddered again.

There was a moment in which time seemed to stop, then came the high pitched hum of Starfleet transporters and sixteen forms were deposited on the floor of his medical bay. The lights, which had brightened slightly, dimmed again as the ship went back into cloak, and Bashir felt the unmistakable small twinges of the warp drive engaging.

Bashir ignored the Vulcans who had come in standing and snapped his attention to the five people on the floor. A Vulcan woman, half sitting up, looking pale and pained, was holding her right thigh. A second Vulcan woman, bleeding green blood from a wound on her head, was holding another Vulcan woman in a blue Starfleet uniform, keeping her in a sitting position, although she was clearly unconscious. A Vulcan man was bent over a prone female figure, holding her upper body carefully against his legs, one hand wrapped around her head to keep it steady.

Bashir went for them immediately.

The Vulcan male holding the unconscious woman was bleeding from a number of wounds, and his eyes were glassy, but his jaw was set in resolve. Bashir felt his heart nearly stop at the sight of the woman: the one human among them, in a blue Starfleet uniform, the only one bleeding red blood.

"Nadir, let's get her up now," he snapped as the other two attended the unconscious Vulcan Starfleet officer and the prone Vulcan woman. Nadir helped Bashir take the woman from the Vulcan scientist and got her onto a biobed.

"Help him," Bashir ordered, stabbing a finger at the man who had been holding Lieutenant Commander Shannon Tanner.

He flipped open a tricorder and ran it over his friend's body, trying not to feel the dread in the pit of his stomach.

"C'mon, Shan, now's not the time," he muttered under his breath, activating the biobed's instruments.

He was going to have to get her into surgery if he wanted any chance of saving her life. He felt the familiar tug of the wormhole on the ship and wanted to yell in relief. Deep Space Nine would be a better place for her to recover, and the Alpha quadrant wasn't lousy with Jem'Hadar.

"C'mon, Shan, just a few more minutes, and this will be something we'll laugh about when we're old and toothless in a Starfleet retirement home."

"Sisko to Bashir, four minutes to Deep Space Nine. What's your status?"

"We have two critically injured, two more badly injured, and a few mildly injured. Tell the Chief we need emergency transport as soon as possible for myself, Dr. Ilia, and our three patients. If I don't get Commander Tanner into surgery quickly, she's not going to last much longer."

"Understood. Sisko out."

There was another small tug that let Bashir know the wormhole had closed behind him. Closing his eyes, he gripped Tanner's upper arms lightly and waited the split second between coming out the wormhole and the time when the Chief locked the transporters on them and the world became a tickling sensation of blue-white light.

* * *

Bashir hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep until Sisko came into the infirmary, waking him up. The doctor jerked, sitting up straight in his chair, and then the memories of the past several hours slotted themselves neatly into place.

"Doctor?", Sisko asked, his deep voice laced with concern.

"Yes," Bashir replied, pushing himself to his feet. Beside him, on the biobed, Shannon Tanner lay comatose but stable, the wounds on her face and arms healed.

"Are you all right?", Sisko asked, his dark eyes flashing to the figure on the bed before returning to Bashir.

The doctor sighed.

"Well enough, sir," he replied.

"And your patients?"

"I've discharged all of them except for Sub-commander Varel, Lieutenant T'Sarak and Commander Tanner, sir."

"What's Tanner's status?"

Bashir looked back at his old friend. He could remember when she'd been here eleven months ago; she'd come on the _Voyager_ and thankfully hadn't stayed on it. She had been assigned to a Vulcan science ship at the request of the Vulcan High Command, one of the few humans ever to have that honour. The Tanner now seemed like such a pale ghost of the Tanner then, who had been avid about her new mission, enthusiastic about the prospect of studying star systems no one from the Alpha quadrant had ever seen. And with Vulcan scientists. Tanner had always gotten on well with Vulcans; she seemed to understand them better than any other human Bashir had ever met.

"Her left lung had been punctured by a broken rib, sir, but I was able to repair that damage, as well as a few broken bones and superficial injuries. She suffered a serious concussion, but I haven't detected any permanent damage. However, she is comatose and I haven't been able to revive her."

Sisko frowned.

"How serious is that?", he asked.

"Well," Bashir sighed. "Probably not as much as it seems. She suffered some very severe injuries, sir, and the human body has its own way of healing. This is most likely her body's response to the need to regenerate itself."

"What about Lieutenant T'Sarak?"

"Unconscious at the moment, but she'll be fine, sir. She suffered a serious concussion as well, but Vulcans are remarkably resilient. Sub-commander Varel broke her right hip and right femur, which also did some damage to her femoral artery. Yes, sir, Vulcans have their major arteries in the same places we do, roughly," Bashir added in response to Sisko's raised eyebrows.

"I didn't know that," Sisko commented.

"I want to keep her overnight for observation. She should be free to go tomorrow."

"I'll let Commander Sokath know. I'm sure he'll appreciate the news."

Bashir nodded. He had authorized the release of all the other Vulcan crew members and would have been curious to see how they interacted with the Andorian crew, if Tanner hadn't been in his infirmary.

He glanced back at his friend, looking grim.

"Something else, Doctor?", Sisko asked and Bashir cursed himself for letting it show on his face.

"Something that should be discussed with Commander Tanner first, sir," he said, and saw the expression on Sisko's face. "No, she's not suffering some serious illness."

Sisko nodded, relaxing slightly.

"I know she's your friend, Julian, but make sure you take care of yourself, too, or else you'll be no use to her. You need to have something to eat."

For the first time, Bashir realized how hungry and thirsty he was.

"I will, sir."

Sisko clapped him on the shoulder and nodded.

"Keep me informed."

"Yes, sir," Bashir agreed and his CO left the infirmary. With a sigh, the doctor headed for the replicator and stared at it for a moment. "Raktajino and, uh, damn."

"Please restate command."

Bashir sighed.

"Raktajino and a turkey sandwich on white bread with cheddar cheese, lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise."

He paused, then realized he'd been waiting for Tanner to tell him that he should know better, as a doctor, than to order white bread. There was only the hum of the replicator as his meal materialized.

He sat down next to her again, took a sip of his steaming drink, then stood and flipped open the tricorder again. Bashir did a quick scan of Tanner's brain wave patterns and frowned. It was the same thing again. He almost called up her medical file to check the results of the examination he'd done on her before she'd left on the _T'Kail_, but he'd already done that three times. When she had left Deep Space Nine, Shannon Tanner had had the normal brain waves of a human female.

Now… Bashir didn't know what to make of them.

She was a human. He knew that. Every single test he'd ever run on her proved that. She looked like a human. She bled like a human. Her internal organs and circulatory system were exactly in the place they would be in other humans.

He'd searched her ancestry and found not a single drop of alien blood in her lineages.

It got him nowhere to understanding why her brain activity now fell somewhere between that of a normal human and that of a normal Vulcan.

He'd checked all of Starfleet's medical data on half-humans, half-Vulcans and this didn't show up anywhere. Half-Vulcans had the brain activity of full Vulcans. He'd checked the medical records of humans who had lived long term among Vulcans and they had the normal human brain activity.

Bashir closed his eyes, flipped the tricorder shut and put it on the table next to him. Then he sighed, opened his eyes, and bent over his friend's unconscious form, touching her forehead gently. Carefully, he brushed her brown hair from her forehead, smoothing it under his hand.

"Shan," he whispered. "It's Julian."

No one else, anywhere, called her that.

Among her friends, she'd never allowed it, except in his case. Out of everyone in the galaxy, he knew he best. But he would not allow her to call him "Jules". No one called him that.

He could remember the first day they'd met, back at the Academy when they had both been nineteen. It had been at the trials for the Academy's racquetball team, and Bashir had never come up against someone who could match him move for move the way Tanner could. Remembering the expression on her face when the coach had finally called a halt to their game, Bashir thought she'd felt the same way. It was as if, he felt, she'd been reading his mind, and she said the same thing about him later. They were both selected for the team and, when playing together, proved to be a force to be reckoned with.

She had been studying astrophysics and he medicine, but they'd always found time outside of practice to meet up, to spend time together, and had become fast friends. They had remained best friends when they'd both left Earth after completing their Academy training; he to Deep Space Nine, she on the _Soto_, a deep space ship. Their friendship had never wavered despite the light years between them and the differences in their professions.

There had never been romance between them and Bashir knew there never would be. They'd known each other for too long and were too close of friends. Tanner knew everything about him, from petty, everyday doubts to the deepest secret he had: the genetic engineering. And he knew everything about her.

Except what had happened to her in the past eleven months.

Bashir sighed.

"Come on, Shan," he whispered. "I know you can hear me. I know you hurt and you're scared of that pain. I know what it feels like. But you're safe now. You're back in Bajoran space, on DS9, and I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere until you wake up."

Tanner didn't respond at all, but Bashir took one of her hands anyway. He had been a doctor long enough to know that an unconscious person could be aware of outside stimuli.

With a deep and heartfelt sigh, he sat down again and obediently ate his dinner, settling in for a long night.

* * *

Julian Bashir awoke sometime in the middle of the night, his neck cramped, his hand asleep. Grimacing, he raised his head carefully, stretching his neck from side to side, cracking the vertebrae as he did so. He let go of Tanner's hand and shook the blood back into his own, wincing slightly at the sudden pins and needles sensation.

He rose, glancing down at his friend, but nothing had changed. With a sigh, he checked her readings on the instruments, satisfying himself that she was still fine, if unreachable. Then he stretched his back and his arms, regretting that he hadn't found a cot for himself.

Nurse Jabara poked her head inside and looked pleased to see him.

"Good, I was hoping I wouldn't wake you," she said quietly.

"What is it?", Bashir asked.

"Lieutenant T'Sarak has regained consciousness."

Bashir raised his eyebrows quickly in surprise.

"Good," he said, relief seeping through him. "I'll be right there."

When Jabara vanished again, Bashir took Tanner's hand back in his again, smiling down at her.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, Shan," he promised. "Lieutenant T'Sarak just woke up. I'm going to check on her."

There was no response physically, but Bashir paused, certain he had felt something . It hadn't been a squeeze of the hand or the whisper of a sigh, but some sensation… like approval.

"Crazy Brit," he muttered to himself and left the room, heading to Lieutenant T'Sarak's small room. The Vulcan woman was being helped into a sitting position by Jabara, and recognition lit her eyes when Bashir entered.

"Ah, Doctor Bashir," T'Sarak said.

"Good to see you again, Lieutenant," Bashir replied, smiling. He flipped open a tricorder and began taking some readings. "How do you feel?"

He had met T'Sarak on a few occasions, beginning when they had been on Earth at the Academy. She had been a year behind Tanner in the astrophysics program, and they had only met in Tanner's final year. Bashir didn't know T'Sarak well, but well enough to know that she was a good officer, scientist, and person.

"I have a headache," the Vulcan said forthrightly. Bashir like Vulcans for this reason: they didn't try to lie about their physical health.

"I'm not surprised," Bashir commented. "You sustained a nasty concussion. You'll be fine though. I'll give you something for the pain."

The Vulcan allowed herself to be injected with an analgesic.

"Where are the others?", she then asked.

"Everyone but you, Sub-commander Varel, and Commander Tanner has been released. We are, obviously, on DS9."

"What are the statuses of Varel and Tanner?"

"Varel's just here for observation. Tanner suffered some serious injuries, and she's unconscious at the moment, but she'll be fine, too."

T'Sarak nodded. It was impossible for Bashir to tell if the woman was relieved or not. Possibly she was, as much as a Vulcan could be.

"I'd like you to stay for the rest of the night, too," Bashir said. "You've been unconscious, but you will need to actually sleep."

"Very well," T'Sarak replied. This was another reason Bashir liked Vulcan patients; they rarely argued with his instructions.

"Get some rest and I'll check on you again in the morning. So far, I like what I see, so there should be no problem discharging you."

T'Sarak nodded her agreement and Bashir left her in Jabara's capable hands, returning to Tanner's room. She was still unconscious.

His ears picked up the sound of the infirmary doors admitting someone. A moment later, Dax peered into the room cautiously.

"Julian," she whispered, a concerned look on her face.

"Come in, Jadzia," he replied. "What are you doing out at this time of night?"

"I just got off the late shift," she replied, then yawned. "I came to see how you were."

"I'm all right," he replied.

"You don't look all right. You look worried," Dax countered.

He shot her a look.

"You're the one who told me once that I always look worried."

"But more so now."

Bashir sighed.

"I'm not worried. I'm impatient. Lieutenant T'Sarak just woke up and I wish that Shannon would, too."

Dax put a reassuring hand on his arm.

"She will."

"Yes, it's just a matter of when. The sooner she did, the happier I would be about it."

Dax smiled slightly.

"Do you want me to stay here and keep you company?", she asked.

"No, you should go get some sleep. I have a few more things to finish up here and then I'm going to drag a cot out of storage for myself."

"Right," Dax said. "But I'll bring you some breakfast in the morning."

Bashir gave her a smile.

"I'd appreciate that," he said.

* * *

That morning, satisfied that Lieutenant T'Sarak was healing well, Dr. Bashir released her from the infirmary. Instead of leaving, the Vulcan lieutenant requested to see Commander Tanner.

"Of course," Bashir agreed and led her into Tanner's small room. Her condition hadn't changed, and he told the Vulcan as much as T'Sarak gazed levelly at the unconscious figure.

"With your permission, Doctor, I'd like to try a mind meld. Is she stable enough for that?"

Bashir opened his mouth to say no, because of the abnormal brain wave readings. But that wasn't true, was it? She _was_ stable. Her brain waves weren't what they were supposed to be, but they were steady. They weren't fluctuating and they certainly didn't seem to be doing her any harm.

"All right," Bashir agreed. "Would it bothered you if I stayed?"

"Not at all," the Vulcan replied levelly. "I'm aware of the depth of Shannon's friendship with you. I'm sure she'd appreciate your presence."

Bashir nodded and they both approached the bed. Bashir took one of Tanner's hands while T'Sarak put her fore and middle fingers against Tanner's temple and her thumb against Tanner's cheek. She closed his eyes, took a few slow breaths, then spoke:

"My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts."

Without really thinking about it, Bashir squeezed his friend's hand gently. The Vulcan's features pinched for a moment, then relaxed. She nodded once, but to what, Bashir didn't know.

Suddenly, Bashir felt a rush of utter relief so strong it nearly knocked him from his feet. It wrapped around him, squeezing, and he knew with utter certainty it wasn't his own. It felt like it was coming from outside of him, working its way inward, directed right at him.

He managed a gasp.

T'Sarak looked up at him quickly, then broke the connection between herself and Tanner.

It was the first time Bashir ever remembered seeing shock on a Vulcan's face.

"What was that?", the doctor managed.

T'Sarak took a deep breath and her features relaxed as she regained her self control.

"I believe that was Shannon."

Bashir stared.

"What? How could she do that? Something like that shouldn't be possible between humans!"

"You are holding her hand," T'Sarak pointed out. "You've made physical contact with her, and did I. It is entirely possible I was acting as a telepathic conduit between the two of you. If Shannon somehow realized that you are present, it is logical that you are the person for whom she would reach."

Bashir could only nod slowly. He had never experienced anything like that, and, despite what T'Sarak said, it felt like Tanner's emotions had crossed straight from her mind into his, without a link on the way between them.

"What did you find out?", he managed to ask.

"She is there, and not in any pain. Her mind exhibits a sense of recovery. I would not be concerned with her state, Doctor. The sense I received from her is that of a resting mind, not an injured one."

Bashir managed only to nod again.

"Thank you," he said, relief– this time his own– washing through him.

"I think that now I must have something to eat and find Commander Sokath. Will you keep me informed of Shannon's condition?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Bashir assured her. The Vulcan nodded in her typical businesslike manner and left the infirmary, Bashir staring after her.

When T'Sarak was gone, Bashir shook himself out of his shock and did a thorough scan of Tanner's brain activity. It hadn't changed from its new state, and showed no effects from the preceding events.

"What the hell is going on?", Bashir muttered to himself, staring at the tricorder and the less-than-useful readings it had just provided him.


	2. Chapter 2

2

An hour later, Dax, looking refreshed from a good night's sleep, came in, in civilian clothing, as she was not on duty. She was holding a mug of Raktajino in one hand and a covered tray in the other.

"What's that?", Bashir asked.

"Breakfast, as promised," Dax replied, setting the tray down on the small table next to Tanner's bed, then handing the mug to him.

"Dare I ask what you brought me?", Bashir enquired dryly.

"Compliments of Quark," Dax said, flashing a smile. "A true human breakfast, he promises me."

"I suppose that would depend on which human you ask," Bashir muttered under his breath, lifting the tray's lid with some apprehension. Then he raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Not bad! And enough for two. Scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and a lemon danish. I know Quark didn't put that danish there."

"No, that was from me," Dax admitted, smiling as he handed her a plate. Bashir sat down in a chair, Dax claiming another. He felt odd, having a chat over breakfast with one friend while another lay unconscious right beside him.

"How's she doing?", Dax asked, taking a big bite off her icing laden danish.

"Still the same," Bashir replied, shoveling some eggs onto his fork. "Although Lieutenant T'Sarak did a mind meld just an hour ago and says she's fine, that her body's just resting."

"Thas gu nus," Dax said through a mouthful of pastry. She swallowed, then licked her fingers. "How about you, Julian? How are you doing?"

Bashir sighed as he swallowed his eggs.

"This is not something I'd ever like to relive," he commented dryly. Then he closed his eyes, rubbing them gently. "When I became a doctor, I knew I would have to face this sort of thing, and I knew the risks of being posted in deep space when I joined Starfleet. So did Shannon. I just never imagined I'd be sitting beside her sickbed waiting for her to wake up. I never imagined I'd see her like this."

Dax gave him a sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know, it's hard to watch a friend in pain."

Bashir nodded.

"I think," he started, then tried to sort out what he was trying to say. "I think that this is the worst. It's like– It's almost like looking at myself there on that bed."

Dax gave him a curious look, nodding for him to go on. He sighed, poking at his food.

"We were the same age when we entered the Academy, and when we each graduated, and we always had the same goal: deep space missions. And we both got what we wanted. It's a rather sharp reminder that getting what you want doesn't guarantee your survival."

"The Dominion," Dax said.

"If they could do that to her," Bashir said, nodding at the bed, "Then what about the rest of us? Are any of us safe, Jadzia?"

Dax sighed.

"I don't know. I doubt it. But it's a risk we take."

Bashir nodded, sighing.

"I know. A lot of humans think 'it will never happen to me'. I just never thought it would happen to her."

"I understand what you mean," Dax said.

"I'm sure you must," Bashir replied ruefully. "With seven lives under your belt."

"Curzon did a lot of foolish things and he saw a lot of his friends die," Dax said.

"Well, I don't intend to let Shannon die. Not until she's reached her hundredth birthday, at least."

Dax smiled as she finished her breakfast.

"Anything else you need, Julian? Aside from a shower?"

Bashir shot her a look as he cleaned his plate and handed it to her.

"Thank you so very much. I'm fine."

"Promise me that you will at least get a shower today."

Bashir rolled his eyes.

"I've already promised Shannon I'd stay here until she woke up. I don't intend to break that."

"I'm sure the last thing this poor woman needs is to wake up to a doctor who hasn't bathed in days."

"Days," Bashir snorted. "It's been one night."

Dax gave him a radiant smile.

"Will you apologize to Garak for me, if you see him? I meant to meet him for breakfast today."

"I talked to him yesterday, but if I see him again today, I'll let him know," Dax promised.

"Thank you," Bashir said sincerely.

"Are you going to stay here all day?", Dax asked.

"As long as I have to," Bashir replied. "I have some other work to do, and I do spend most of my days here anyway, you know."

"Well, let me know when she wakes up."

"I will." Dax turned to leave, but Bashir held up a hand quickly. "Wait, Jadzia."

"Yes?"

"The Vulcan ship. Was it the Jem'Hadar?"

"Yes, but we were lucky. Only one raider, which is why we're still in one piece." Dax paused. "While we were beaming the crew to the _Defiant_, I was able to establish a link with the _T'Kail_'s main computer and upload all of their data to our computer. I've transferred it onto the station's computer and the Vulcans have downloaded it. They'll be able to take it with them when they leave. Commander Tanner might want to know that when she wakes up."

Bashir nodded, relieved and pleased. It was reassuring to know that eleven months of work on the part of Tanner and the Vulcans had not gone out the airlock.

Dax bid him good-bye and left the infirmary. A few minutes later, Dr. Ilia stopped in, coming on duty. Bashir was immensely glad to have her on staff at the moment; she was on an exchange from Bajor, and here for nine months. He found himself rather hoping she would stay; she was an excellent physician. But with the increased threat from the Dominion, most of the Bajorans were opting to return home and Bashir thought Ilia might choose the same when her time on the station was up.

"How is she?", Ilia asked.

"The same. I was just going to go check on Sub-commander Varel."

"I'll do it," Ilia said. "It's my duty shift anyway. I'd tell you to go home, but I imagine you're staying here."

Bashir nodded. The blond Bajoran woman gave him a smile and disappeared to do her own work. With a sigh, Bashir turned back to Tanner, looked at her for a few minutes, then shook his head. He set himself to the task of the odds-and-ends jobs that rarely got done on time around the infirmary, trying to keep himself occupied. After awhile, an Andorian came in, seeking some aid from a sprained wrist she'd sustained in a holosuite. Bashir sent her on her way to see Ilia. About a quarter of an hour later, he saw Sub-commander Varel leaving and then Ilia came to see him. Bashir stepped into the corridor.

"She checks out, and she says she feels fine, and I can't see any reason to keep her here any longer."

"Good," Bashir replied. "Commander Sisko will be happy about that."

"So will the Vulcan commander, I imagine."

"What about the Andorian woman?"

"It turns out she had hairline fractures on her lunate and capitate, as well as some muscle strain. I've regenerated the muscles and healed the bones, but I'm keeping her here to rest for about half an hour. She didn't seem adverse to that."

"Glad to hear it." He paused. "How are the Vulcans and Andorians getting along?"

Ilia laughed.

"The reason you just saw Varel leaving is she was talking to our Andorian patient for ten minutes. Last night, I saw the Commander Sokath and the Captain Viryl in Quark's, comparing data."

Bashir raised his eyebrows.

"In Quark's?"

Ilia shrugged a smile playing on her lips.

"It's as good a place as any," she commented.

"I suppose so," Bashir conceded.

Ilia flashed a grin.

"I'm going to check on my patient," she said, and went back the way she'd came.

Bashir returned to Tanner's small room, letting out a deep sigh. This was going to be a long day. He went back to work, fighting the urge to check the time every five minutes, or to give Tanner constant scans.

He was in the middle of checking an inventory report– and trying not to nod off over it– when he heard a small noise from beside him, the faint, shaky sound of a deep breath being drawn in. Bashir snapped his head up and saw Tanner's eyelids fluttering. He put the datapad aside and stood, taking her right hand in his and touching her forehead with his left fingertips.

"Shan?", he said quietly.

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his, although they were glassy and slightly unfocused. A moment later, they cleared and a smile tugged at her lips.

"Hey, Julian," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"How do you feel?"

"Really thirsty," she managed.

Bashir got her some water quickly and held her head up so she could drink it. She downed all of it quickly, then he let her lay back.

"Better?"

"Much."

Bashir pulled her into a hug, taking care not to sit her up too much or too quickly. Tanner wound her arms around his shoulders, hugging back, although her grip was weaker than usual.

"How long have I been here?", she asked.

"Nineteen hours."

"What about the others?"

Bashir smiled.

"Everyone else is all right."

Tanner coughed and he helped her sit up a bit for a moment.

"Just me, needing all the extra attention?", she asked, her face still pale, but her brown eyes sparkling.

"There were some other injuries, but you're the last one still here. Sub-commander Varel just left a couple of hours ago."

"What about T'Sarak?"

"I let her go this morning."

"Morning? What time is it?"

"Just after twelve hundred hours. What's the last thing you remember?"

Tanner's brow furrowed as she thought.

"You… and T'Sarak. I think T'Sarak was doing a mind meld."

Bashir stared at her in shock.

"You remember that?", he asked.

Tanner nodded carefully.

"You were unconscious," Bashir told her.

She blinked at him.

"Well, your memory seems to be working just fine, then," Bashir said.

"Better than normal," Tanner replied. "Can I sit up?"

"If sitting up is going to lead to standing up and walking around, then no, not yet."

She gave him a look that he knew so well: wry, with a twinge of amusement and impatience.

"Julian, I have to go to the bathroom."

He felt his lips fighting a smile.

"All right, fine," he said, and helped her sit up. "But we're going to do this slowly. If you get dizzy at all, I want you to tell me."

"You're the doctor," she replied.

"Just you remember that."

Carefully, he helped her to her feet, one arm under her shoulders to support her, his right hand holding hers to keep her right arm around his shoulders.

"I feel fine," she assured him.

"I've heard that too many times from too many patients. You were unconscious for almost an entire day, Shan."

"I'm not arguing with you," she replied, a smile on her lips.

He got her into the small bathroom and she pointed very firmly at the door. In this, he relented. Despite what he'd just said, Bashir knew Tanner well enough to know she'd ask for help if she needed it.

When she was finished, he helped her back to her bed, but let her stay sitting while he took some scans.

"Well?", she asked.

"You're fine. How do you feel?"

"I have a bit of a headache and I'm stiff."

"That's to be expected. Nothing else, though?"

"No. Should there be?"

"Well, you had a punctured lung, broken ribs, a broken right humerus and a concussion. But you seem to be healing just fine from the looks of this…"

"That's good," Tanner said, then rubbed her eyes. "Would you like to tell me what else is wrong?"

Bashir blinked at her.

"How did you know?", he demanded.

"Because I've known you for eleven years, and you're really terrible at hiding things."

Bashir glanced down at the tricorder before looking back up at her. Tanner watched him carefully. Although her face was still paler than it should be, the result of her injuries, her brown eyes were sharp and intent. She pressed her pale lips together, then raked a hand through her long brown hair.

"All right," Bashir relented. "But nothing else is wrong. There's just something different."

Tanner gave him a puzzled look and Bashir picked up a datapad, calling up some information. He stood beside her bed, giving the 'pad to her, then pointing to the scans he wanted her to see.

"You see this one here? That's your brain wave patterns from eleven months ago, when I did your physical before you left on the _T'Kail_. The one at the bottom is Sub-commander Varel's scan, which I took yesterday, and it's for comparison. The one in the middle is the scan I took for you last night."

Tanner looked between the three readings.

"I don't understand," she said. "Why have my brainwaves changed?"

Bashir sighed.

"Well, I was hoping you might help shed some light on that. Did anything happen to you while you were with the Vulcans? Did you come into contact with any virus or entity?"

"No," Tanner replied, looking puzzled.

"Did any of the Vulcans perform a mind meld on you?"

"Well, yes, once. They taught me some Vulcan meditations and I was curious as to what a mind meld was like."

"But you didn't notice anything unusual about that? Nothing really– I'm not quite certain, but maybe overpowering?"

"No," Tanner replied. "T'Sarak did it and she said it was fairly straightforward with humans."

"What about the meditation?"

"It was just meditation, Julian."

Bashir rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"You didn't hit your head, or anything?"

"No, nothing remotely injury inducing happened until we were attacked by the Jem'Hadar."

"Did you have any medical scans taken by the Vulcans?"

"Yes, of course. I did three away missions, and I was scanned each time I got back to make sure I wasn't carrying any pathogens."

Bashir nodded, glad for that.

"Good, that will give me something to compare these new readings to."

Tanner looked relieved.

"We you able to save our ship?", she asked.

"No, but Lieutenant Dax was able to upload your computer's memory into the _Defiant_, which means you haven't lost your research data and I can access your medical scans."

"Have you told anyone about this?", Tanner asked, gesturing vaguely with the datapad.

"No," Bashir said, taking it from her. "I am your doctor and this is your… condition. I'm not even sure it can be called a condition right now. I don't know what it is. But I know it's not a virus or a bacteria, and I know it isn't causing you any harm. Until I've figured out what's going on, I don't intend to share this with anyone." He shot her a meaningful look. "I know what it's like to have an unusual medical history."

Tanner gave him a grateful look.

"I've got to keep you here for observation anyway. Come on, lie down again. I'll raise the head of the bed, if you'd like."

Tanner nodded and helped her lie down, then adjusted the bed so she was half sitting up.

"I'm going to get one of my nurses to go get you some food– some real food, not this replicated garbage."

"How long are you going to keep me here?"

"I don't yet. But those were serious injuries and you need to rest."

Tanner nodded.

"All right."

Bashir smiled at her.

"Don't worry, you're fine. And I won't torture you with my company longer than necessary." He gave her smile. "I'm glad you're back among the waking. I'll be back in a moment."

She nodded and Bashir left quickly, in search of an on-duty nurse.

* * *

Commander Benjamin Sisko entered the infirmary and met Bashir in the corridor. The doctor was clean shaven and look rested. Sisko immediately filed this information mentally under "good news".

"Ah, Doctor. How's our remaining patient?"

"Go ask her yourself," Bashir said with a smile, gesturing to the small private room. Sisko stepped inside, followed by Bashir, and Tanner looked up when they entered, smiling.

"Commander Tanner," Sisko said, "Good to see you awake again."

"Thank you, sir. It's good to be awake again." Her Welsh accent was as crisp and strong as Bashir's English one.

"How are you feeling?"

"Other than tired, I feel fine, sir," she said, and she looked it, too. Especially when compared to how she had looked coming out of surgery. Sisko had come to the infirmary immediately after the _Defiant_ had docked, just in time to see Bashir putting his comatose patient on a biobed. Sisko did not think he would ever forget the expression on Bashir's face as he and Nurse Nadir transferred Tanner from the stretcher to the bed; it was the expression of a man in his own personal hell.

Sisko knew exactly how that felt.

Now, Tanner looked more or less the way he remembered from her stop here eleven months ago, save for the paleness of her face and the fatigue around her eyes. And the infirmary pajamas.

"Glad to hear it," the commander said, grinning. "How much longer is Julian going to hold you here?"

Beside him, Bashir gave a derisive snort.

"At least a day, sir. I want to make sure she gets enough rest and recuperates properly."

"You'd think he doesn't trust me," Tanner commented, her eyes twinkling.

"I trust you," Bashir countered. "It's Quark and his racquetball holosuite program I don't trust."

"I've spoken to Starfleet Command," Sisko said to Tanner. "Since you weren't scheduled to return to the Alpha quadrant for another four weeks, they've granted you and Lieutenant T'Sarak permission to remain on the station and analyze your data here, if you'd like. You're certainly welcome to use our science labs."

"I would appreciate that," Tanner said. "What about the Vulcan scientists?"

"I had a meeting with Captain Viryl and Commander Sokath, and Viryl has agreed to give the Vulcans passage home if the Vulcan High Command approves it. Apparently, Viryl and Sokath are eager to exchange the results of their studies. I'm sure the Vulcan Science Council and the Andorian Science Authority won't be too hesitant to promote that kind of cooperation."

Tanner smiled.

"I'm sure they won't."

"Admiral Paris sent the information about your next posting. Apparently, both you and Lieutenant T'Sarak are being offered positions on the USS _Blessing Way_."

"The _Blessing Way_?"

"One of the new NCX ships. It's undergoing final construction at Utopia Planetia right now, and should be under way within six weeks. I've brought you the information on the posting and the mission."

He gave her a datapad, which she accepted with a nod.

"In the meantime, the _Enterprise_ is scheduled to pass by here in twenty-five days, and they will be able to take both you and Lieutenant T'Sarak back to Earth before the _Blessing Way_ is launched. Admiral Paris assures me that if you don't want to do another deep space mission for the moment, that Starfleet Command can find you a research lab on Earth."

"Thank you, sir. I'll consider it," Tanner said, but Sisko thought he could see the decision in her eyes. He had seen it in so many of the officers here: the need to be out there, exploring. He saw it in the mirror whenever he looked at himself.

"I've also been assured that Starfleet will contact your family and let them know what's happened and that you're back in the Alpha quadrant."

"I'd like to speak to them, too, sir. It's been a long time."

"Of course. Let Doctor Bashir know when you're ready, and we can establish a link with their homes."

"Thank you," Tanner said sincerely.

"I've also been asked to inform you that Commander Sokath wishes you a speedy recovery. I imagine he'll be down to see you shortly now that you're awake."

Tanner smiled and Sisko saw a rare look in her eyes: true appreciation for Vulcans. He had seen in a few other humans, those who actually managed to make friends with such a behaviorally alien species, and he respected that.

"Thank you, sir. I'd like that."

"Good. Don't let Julian keep you here too long. I think he likes having patients in here a bit too much for his own good."

"Or for mine, sir," Tanner said with a small, mischievous grin.

"If you don't stop harassing your doctor, I'm going to give you something that will really help you sleep," Bashir threatened with a smile. "You may be a lieutenant commander and I may only be a lieutenant, but this _is_ my infirmary and I don't want my recuperating patients getting too rowdy."

"I don't plan on disobeying your orders, Doctor," Tanner said, smiling as she did so.

"Good. Then get some rest."

"I expect to see you soon, Commander," Sisko said with a grin, and then left. Tanner raised her eyebrows at Bashir, then reclined the bed, closing her eyes. The doctor smiled, shook his head, and let her sleep.

* * *

Julian Bashir removed his uniform jacket and sank onto the edge of his bed with a deep sigh. He rubbed his eyes wearily, trying to banish the headache that was brought on by fatigue and doubt.

It had been a long two days, and it didn't promise to get any smoother soon.

Commander Sokath had readily released both Tanner and T'Sarak's medical scans, so that they could be entered into the officers' Starfleet medical records. Bashir had checked T'Sarak's just in case, but there was nothing unusual about the Vulcan's scans, nor had their been when Bashir himself had examined her.

The Vulcans hadn't noticed anything in Tanner, of course, as they had been scanning for pathogens, not brain activity.

He stared at the datapad in front of him. There were three scans on it. The first, taken twenty-two days after entering the Gamma quadrant, was normal. The second, taken after six months, was halfway between Tanner's normal waves and her current ones. The last one, taken five weeks ago, showed the same levels she displayed now.

But there was nothing to indicate why.

With a frustrated sigh, Bashir tossed the datapad onto the table beside his bed. How was he supposed to determine what was going on when there was no hint as to what had happened? The scans the Vulcans had taken showed her to be in perfect health. The physical Bashir had done before she left showed the same. Once she had fully recovered from the attack, he knew he would get the same results.

She was acting no differently than he'd ever known her to. Every other system in her body was functioning normally, except her brain.

He changed into his sleep wear, and lay down on the bed on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Lights off," he sighed.

The room plunged into darkness and Bashir closed his eyes.

Despite the problem with which he was struggling, it had been a long two days and he felt himself drifting off. He was grateful. Already half asleep, he yanked the covers over his body and tucked his hands behind his head.

Within another few moments, he was asleep.

He slipped into a dream. There wasn't much he could see; everything was blurred, but the colours and overall shapes of things seemed familiar to him. He could hear the faint sounds of a conversation in the background, although he had no idea what was being said. The voices seemed familiar. The small noises coming from around him also seemed routine. The hum of the lights, the faint beeps of machinery.

It was his infirmary, he realized.

It was quiet and the lighting dim, so it must his infirmary at night.

Bashir felt peaceful; this was so common to him that it was like a second crew quarters. These were everyday noises, everyday voices, the background noise to his life.

"_Julian?"_, a voice whispered just inside the edges of his hearing.

Bashir's eyes snapped open and he sat up before he was fully awake.

"Shan?", he demanded, looking around the dark room. "Lights!", he snapped.

They came on full, momentarily blinding him. Wincing, he squinted hard until his eyes adjusted, then looked quickly around his bedroom.

He was alone.

Bashir clambered out of bed and did a quick check of his entire quarters, coming up empty handed. He stopped in the livingroom, chewing his lower lip.

He _knew_ he'd heard Tanner's voice.

Quickly, he returned to his bedroom, changed back into his uniform, and headed down to the infirmary.

Inside, the atmosphere was exactly how he'd dreamt it. He could even hear the muted conversation from his dream, and this time, he recognized the voices: Dr. Ilia and Nurse Nadir. He came upon them a moment later, and the women looked surprised

"Julian?", Ilia asked. "Is everything all right?"

"I– think so," Bashir answered. "I've just got to check on something. Don't worry. No emergencies."

Ilia nodded, looking puzzled, but returned to her work with Nadir. Bashir hurried down the corridor into Tanner's room.

It was mostly dark, illuminated by a faint blue light and the instrument displays. Tanner was sleeping peacefully on the biobed, on her back, with her hands crossed over her stomach. She did not stir when he came in, and Bashir checked all of her vitals quickly. Every reading was normal– well, what was becoming normal for her– for a sleeping body.

He sighed, rubbing his chin, cursing to himself.

In the morning, he was going to have to have a very serious talk with the Vulcans.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note_: if you read A Moment in the Sun after this, see if you can spot the reference in this chapter to that story! (couldn't resist)

3

"How did you sleep last night?", Bashir asked as the tricorder took its readings.

"Not that well," Tanner admitted.

"No? Why not?"

"After the _T'Kail_, DS9 just seems so… noisy."

"Well, a lot of people have troubles with the noises in the infirmary, the machines and whatnot."

Tanner shook her head as Bashir, apparently satisfied with the readings, snapped the tricorder shut.

"No, it isn't that. It's people talking."

"Talking?"

She nodded.

"I can always hear people talking, right at the edge of my hearing. Whispered conversations in which I can hear the voices, but not the words."

Bashir frowned.

"That's odd. I know Dr. Ilia and Nurse Nadir were on duty last night, but I doubt they spent their entire shift having a conversation."

"Someone was," Tanner replied, then sighed. "And I can still hear it."

Bashir gave her a puzzled look.

"What do you mean, now? Aside from us, the only other person here is Nurse Jabara."

Tanner frowned.

"You can't hear anything?", she asked.

Bashir was silent for a moment, his features pressing into a frown of concentration.

"I don't hear anything but the machinery."

Tanner shook her head at him.

"I can hear people talking, Julian."

"Male or female?"

"Both."

"But you can't hear what they're saying?"

"No, just the sound of their voices."

Bashir flipped the tricorder open and scanned the room quickly, before stepping out into the corridor and repeating his action.

"The only other person I'm picking up is Jabara."

Tanner sighed as her old friend came back into the room. He put the tricorder away and gave her an intent look she knew very well.

"Shan, I'd like to ask one of the Vulcans about this. Maybe this has something to do with your new brain wave patterns. Is there any one of them you can trust to keep this quiet?"

"T'Sarak," Tanner replied immediately.

"All right. I think it might be a good idea if she did a mind meld, if that's all right with you. I can't get any information from scans of your brain, but she might be able to pick up something else."

Tanner gave Bashir a wry smile.

"That's a medical practice not often used."

Bashir shrugged one shoulder.

"You were with them for eleven months, and T'Sarak could get inside your mind. At this point, that might be exactly what we need. But I will only do it if you feel comfortable with it."

"I am," Tanner assured him.

She watched him as he called T'Sarak to the infirmary. Bashir was nervous and on edge. Of course, Bashir always seemed somewhat on edge, and Tanner knew why. He felt as if he were constantly on the verge of being discovered, of having the genetic engineering exposed. She knew he probably didn't realize it, but it was always there, if just beneath the surface.

However, she knew that, at the moment, he was concerned for her, and frustrated that despite his skills, he didn't know what was going on.

She herself did not feel frustrated or anxious. She rarely did, because she approached everything pragmatically and knew this wasn't a problem she could solve. She wasn't even sure it was a problem. She certainly didn't seem to be suffering any ill effects from it.

When Bashir was done his conversation with T'Sarak, he turned back to Tanner, looking displeased at the situation in general. He handed her a datapad.

"These are the scans I got from the Vulcans," he said and Tanner looked down at them. She saw the pattern as he pointed it out to her.

"Julian, is this supposed to be possible?", she asked.

"No," he replied bluntly. Then he gave her an evaluating look, the one that meant he might as well be reading her mind, he knew her so well. "Why isn't this bothering you?"

"It's a medical mystery, Julian, not an astrophysics one. It's not that I don't want to know what's going on, it's that I don't have the training to figure it out. If it were a G-type star burning in the A-type temperature range, I'd be your woman. As it stands…" She gave him a smile and squeezed his arm; in return, he relaxed a bit, looking more the way she always remembered him, with that small smile turning up only the corners of his lips and touching his eyes. "I trust you to figure it out."

"Well," he sighed. "That makes one of us."

"You're the best damn doctor in Starfleet, Julian," Tanner said.

"I can't argue there," he joked, and there again was the more relaxed Bashir.

T'Sarak chose that moment to enter, looking impassive as always, but her dark eyes were always what gave her away. They were sharp and quick, contrasting her calm demeanor and expressionless features.

She nodded at Tanner.

"Shannon. Good to see you awake again."

"Thank you, T'Sarak," she replied, genuinely glad the other woman was there.

"Computer," Bashir said. "Restrict infirmary access to request or emergency only, and notify me if anyone comes within five meters of this room."

"Acknowledged," the computer's mechanical female voice droned.

"Is there a problem, Doctor?", T'Sarak asked in her level, Vulcan voice.

"Not as such, Lieutenant," Bashir replied. He glanced at Tanner and she nodded her permission. He explained the situation to T'Sarak the same way he had explained it to Tanner, using the Vulcan data, Tanner's previous Starfleet exams and medical records, and the new exam results. T'Sarak listened thoughtfully without interrupting. Bashir went through the tests he had performed in order to determine the cause, and how he had come up with nothing for each one. He finished by requesting that T'Sarak perform a mind meld on Tanner, to see if she could come up with anything.

T'Sarak turned to Tanner.

"Do you wish to do this?", she inquired.

"Yes," Tanner replied with a nod.

"Very well. But I remind you, Doctor Bashir, I am not a medical expert. I am uncertain as to what it is I am looking for."

Bashir sighed, pursing his lips unhappily.

"The problem is, so am I."

T'Sarak remained impassive.

"Very well." She approached Tanner and put her thumb and first two fingers on the human woman's face, very lightly. Her hands were warm, but Vulcan hands were always warm. She closed her eyes and stayed still and silent for a moment before speaking again. "My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts."

Tanner kept her eyes open, but gathered her concentration as she had learned to do during her eleven months on the Vulcan science ship. She breathed slowly and deliberately, keeping track of her thoughts and the sensations of her body. All at once, T'Sarak was inside her mind, her presence cool and collected. She gave instructions for Tanner to remain calm and not to resist, and Tanner obeyed, sitting patiently as T'Sarak examined her mind.

Tanner flicked her eyes to look at Bashir, who was watching with a frown. He seemed displeased at his options, and Tanner wondered how frustrated he really was that he had not solved this yet. He would take it personally, she knew, that he could not figure this out for her, that he had to rely on other means.

"…_doesn't make any damn sense!"_, she heard suddenly, and very clearly in her mind. _"There's got to be some explanation!"_

Tanner jerked back quickly, breaking the physical connection between herself and T'Sarak, effectively severing the mental connection as well. T'Sarak looked mildly surprised, then composed herself again, as Tanner put her hands against her temple, Bashir's voice echoing in her mind.

She had heard _him_. Not just T'Sarak.. She knew this could be possible if Bashir had been physically touching either her or T'Sarak during the mind meld, but he hadn't been. And she had heard his thoughts clear as a klaxon.

"What is it?", Bashir asked.

"Just dizzy," Tanner replied automatically.

Bashir put down the 'pad he'd been holding and helped her lie down quickly.

"Easy does it," he said as Tanner closed her eyes, putting one hand over them. "Take some deep breaths. Do you feel nauseous?"

"No," Tanner replied. "I think I'll be all right."

"Did you find anything?", Bashir asked T'Sarak.

The Vulcan shook her head.

"No. I was not in contact with Shannon long enough," she replied.

"T'Sarak, can I talk to Julian alone for a moment?", Tanner asked, her hand still over her eyes, feeling frightened for the first time.

"Of course," the Vulcan said and Tanner listened to her leave the room. She removed her hand from her eyes and saw Bashir hovering over her, face dark with concern.

"What's the matter?", he asked quietly.

Tanner sighed, pushing herself into a sitting position. Bashir helped her quickly, telling her to be careful. She sighed, looking at him, suddenly at a loss for words.

"Shan, tell me what happened," he instructed gently.

"I heard your thoughts," Tanner replied, and wasn't surprised by the instant shock on his face.

"What?", he asked.

"I heard you, Julian, not T'Sarak."

"What was I thinking?"

"I heard you say– think: 'Doesn't make any damn sense. There's got to be some explanation.' "

Bashir stared her, his brown eyes wide and bright with disbelief.

"That's impossible," he whispered.

"It should be," Tanner agreed. "If you'd been touching me or T'Sarak, it would have been reasonable, but it shouldn't have happened the way it did."

Bashir closed his eyes and sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily.

"All right. I think I need to do a detailed scan of your brain. I did one while you were unconscious, but it only showed the activity a comatose person would normally show. Do you want T'Sarak to stay here?"

"No, she can go," Tanner replied.

Bashir left for a moment to release T'Sarak, then came back and started setting up his equipment, while Tanner lay quietly, her hands folded across her stomach.

"How long will this take?", she asked when he appeared in her field of vision again, standing over a small console, keying in a few commands.

"A few minutes," he replied, sounding somewhat distracted.

She watched him while he worked, for lack of anything else to do. He seemed even more tense now, and Tanner wondered what he was seeing, or if the images were showing up yet. The minutes dragged by, with a faint humming sound in her ears and a prickling sensation in her scalp which she knew was probably imagined.

"All right," Bashir finally said.

"What did you find?", Tanner asked.

"Nothing yet," he replied. "I haven't called up the images. I'd like you to see them, too."

"I don't know anything about how my brain images are supposed to look," she replied.

"I know, but if there's something odd, I want to be able to show you."

_That sounds promising_, she thought wryly.

Bashir removed the scanners and allowed her to get up and join him at the console. She felt fine on her feet, no dizziness or unsteadiness, which he took as a good sign. She wondered if he would release her despite this brain mystery.

"All right," he said again. "Here we are…"

Tanner watched his reaction instead of the display in front of them, knowing she would get much more out of that than from looking at the images. For a moment, his face was blank, then his eyes went wide again and he moved a fraction of a centimeter closer to the console, gripping the top with his left hand.

Tanner looked at the images.

"My God," Bashir whispered quietly.

"What is it?", Tanner asked.

Quickly, he keyed in some commands and another image popped up.

"This is a human reference sample," he said. "Do you see the difference?"

Tanner nodded, but was uncertain what it meant.

"Can you explain?", she asked.

Bashir pointed to an image of her brain.

"You see all this activity in the left temporal lobe? And this spot here in the right temporal lobe?"

"Yes."

"You shouldn't have that. I've never seen anything like that in a human before. Shan, your brain is making use of parts of itself that no other human brain does. If anyone else showed this to me, I'd say it was impossible, but it's happening."

"What does it mean?", she asked.

Bashir sighed.

"I don't know yet, but I think it may go a long way toward explaining some of the things you've been experiencing. It may be that some or all of your senses have been heightened, and that's why you're hearing conversations no one else is. That might even just be your brain's increased activity trying to adjust to itself. It might even…" he sighed, shaking his head. "This sounds unbelievable. It might be giving you some sort of telepathic sensitivity."

Tanner stared at him.

"That's impossible," she said. "Humans aren't telepathic."

"No, they aren't," he agreed. "But you've been taught to meditate by Vulcans, which means you've likely got a good command of your mind, and are able to focus quickly and very sharply. And when you came into contact with a telepath, T'Sarak, it might have heightened this condition," he finished, tapping the screen in front of them.

"Is there any way to find out for sure?", she asked.

"I've got a lot of research to do," he admitted, almost grimly. "But I'll find out what I can."

"Will you discharge me?", she asked.

This made him smile and look up from the images.

"Not until tonight, at least. I want to make sure your injuries are fully healed and I do not want you straining yourself by playing racquetball or the like."

Tanner nodded.

"Get some rest," he advised. "I'm going to my office to work on this. I'll let you know when I find anything, and give you a check up this evening before I let you go."

* * *

The next morning, after a good night's sleep, Tanner went down to the infirmary to find Bashir already there, in his office. He had discharged her the night before and Major Kira had assigned her guest quarters. It had been good not to sleep on a biobed in the infirmary.

Bashir looked up and smiled when she came in; she was relieved he was still treating her like he always had.

"Good morning," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine," she said honestly as she took the seat across from him. She'd had the chance to meditate the previous night, the first chance in several days, and it had helped immensely. The background noise she'd told Bashir about had vanished and her mind felt focused and rested.

"Did you get to talk to your parents?", he asked.

Tanner rolled her eyes.

"Yes, and when my mother found out I was here, I got ten minutes of 'that Julian is such a nice young man and I hear he's doing very well for himself as a doctor, you know.'"

Bashir chuckled.

"I get that, too," he told her. "Whenever I do talk to my parents, they want to know how you're doing and why I haven't married you yet."

Tanner laughed.

"It makes me afraid to date anyone; I'm sure they have a little chart at home with all your perfect qualities. You're a high standard to live up to, Julian Bashir."

He flashed her a grin.

"Perhaps I should develop some nasty habits or start breaking some laws?"

"Couldn't hurt," Tanner agreed. "Have you found anything?"

His smile vanished and he shook his head.

"No, not yet. I've sent a message to a friend of mine at Starfleet medical, Doctor David Bearns, asking if he knows of any research on anomalous human brain activity. I didn't mention you, though, don't worry. As far as he knows, I'm satisfying my own curiosity."

Tanner nodded.

"Good."

Bashir sighed.

"But, until he gets back to me, or until I come across something on my own, there's really nothing I can tell you. I've tried to find anything on human brain images after learning Vulcan meditation, but there isn't anything. One study was done about fifty years ago, and yielded nothing we don't already know about activity during meditation."

"You mean that brain activity is different when a person's meditating?"

"Of course. It's different when a person is in different stages of sleep, awake, meditating. We've known for a long time that meditation stimulates the use of other areas of the brain, but not like yours has been. Unfortunately, while we can observe things about the brain, there's still a lot we don't know about how it works." He gave her an apologetic look. "It may be that you'll have to live with that explanation, such as it is."

"Well," Tanner said thoughtfully. "What does that mean, then?"

"It means that I'm giving you a clean bill of health and allowing you to go back to work. I'd like to see you again tomorrow, as your doctor, just to make sure that everything has healed the way it's supposed to. Other than that, I'll keep researching, but I may turn up nothing. You're fit for duty and I see no reason you can't resume your life."

Tanner smiled.

"Thanks, Julian."

"You're welcome. It's given me something to think about, that's for sure. Maybe if something does come of it, I'll write a paper about it."

Tanner rolled her eyes.

"I always wanted to be your lab rat."

"Funny, I always thought you took those deep space missions to get away from me."

"It's all about you," she agreed with a grin. "Come on. Let's go get some breakfast."

"I think I could handle that," he replied with a smile of his own, rising to join her as she left his office.

* * *

After breakfast and a long meeting with the Vulcans, Tanner and T'Sarak made their way to the station's science lab. Lieutenant Jadzia Dax was already there, working on something of her own, and looked up, smiling, when the two other officers entered.

"I've received all your data from the Vulcans," she said to them. "It's been waiting for you."

Tanner smiled and T'Sarak gave a nod of acknowledgment.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Tanner said. Dax smiled in return and went back to her work. Tanner and T'Sarak claimed two stations and set about going through their data, discussing how it could best be broken down and dealt with. Even though only a fraction of the scientific data collected during the past eleven months was the intellectual property of the two Starfleet officers, there was enough here to keep them busy for at least half a year. Only the barest of preliminary assessments had been conducted in the Gamma quadrant; the scientists had been too busy gathering new information to catalogue and analyze what they had.

Tanner was looking forward to it immensely. She had seen things no other human ever had, and analyzing and describing them would be a challenge and an adventure. She had known before she left how much Starfleet Astrophysics was looking forward to the results of Tanner and T'Sarak's studies, and had even received a communiqué from the research station in Tau Ceti that morning. News that she and T'Sarak were back traveled quickly, it seemed, and she doubted the day would be done before messages from colleagues on Earth began pouring in.

But it was the other deep space scientists that would really take an interest, Tanner knew. They would want to know what she and T'Sarak had discovered in the Gamma quadrant, to know what to look for in their own research. Publishing the papers was going to be exciting and probably entertaining. To Tanner, there was little quite as funny as watching scientists presented with new ideas, especially if they knew those new ideas were coming. "Like kids at Christmas" one of her fellow physicists back on Earth had commented to her once.

That was how she felt right now, with all the information at her fingertips, all new, all just waiting to be discovered, to be examined.

Tanner keyed in a few commands, pulling up the inventory dates for their data.

"We need to start by dividing these into similar star types," she said.

"Agreed," T'Sarak said.

"–And making dinner tonight–", a male voice said.

Tanner spun round, her eyes doing a quick sweep of the science lab. Aside from her and T'Sarak, Dax was still the only other person there.

"Commander?", T'Sarak asked.

"Did you just hear that?", Tanner asked.

"Hear what?", T'Sarak returned.

"A man's voice," Tanner replied. This caught Dax's attention and she looked up from her work.

"Commander?", she asked.

"I just heard a man say something about making dinner tonight," Tanner said. "And I do realize how ridiculous that sounds."

Dax frowned.

"Computer, identify the occupants of this lab," she said.

"Lieutenant Jadzia Dax, Lieutenant-Commander Shannon Tanner, Lieutenant T'Sarak."

Tanner frowned.

"Are you certain you heard something?", Dax asked.

"Yes," Tanner replied firmly. She was always certain of what her senses were telling her; it was a confidence she'd had all her life, and it had only been further reinforced during her time with the Vulcans.

"Computer, was there any attempted communication between anywhere else on the station and this lab?", T'Sarak asked.

"Negative," the computer replied in its bland voice.

"Identify anyone else within ten meters of this lab," T'Sarak ordered.

"There is no one within specified parameters."

"Maybe you should go down to the infirmary and have Julian look at you," Dax suggested.

Tanner shook her head. She knew that wouldn't do any good; he would find that her brainwave activity was off, like it had been since sometime on the Vulcan ship. This wasn't a hallucination brought on by her concussion, Tanner knew. She felt too clear headed and she had been present in her mind when it had happened.

Dax held up one hand helplessly.

"I'm all right," Tanner assured her. "I don't know what it was, but I don't intend to spend the day running about trying to figure it out. I have to work to do."

With a sigh, Dax nodded and went back to her own work. Tanner and T'Sarak returned to theirs as well.

"Once that's done, I think we need to start with the neutrino star we observed five months ago. It's the most anomalous, and given their scarcity–"

She stopped suddenly, looking down at hands that were no longer hers. She had been in the middle of calling up the information on the neutrino star from their list of dates when the image in front of her vanished replaced by a tricorder being held by very definitely male hands.

"–Recalibrating these things. I don't know why Starfleet–"

It was Bashir's voice. She could recognize that.

"–Wonder if David got– I really need to order new tricorders– Shan– Tomorrow Kira needs– But she won't come–"

Tanner squeezed her eyes shut, trying to get her mind back under her own control. Bashir's mental voice kept up its broken chatter as dizziness gripped her.

"Commander?", she heard T'Sarak's voice come from a long way away

"–There's another damn–", Bashir's voice said and Tanner's world went black.

* * *

She awoke in the infirmary, blinking against the light and the dull pain in her forehead. Tanner groaned, almost immediately, Bashir's face appeared in her field of vision, his features pressed into a frown of concern, his dark eyes bright with worry.

"Ow," Tanner muttered. "What happened?"

"You collapsed in the science lab. No, stay lying down."

"Why?", Tanner asked.

"I don't want it happening again," Bashir replied.

"No, I mean why did I collapse?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out. It's most likely your body is still recovering."

"But you're not sure."

"No," he admitted.

Tanner let out a sigh, rubbing her forehead. She tried to concentrate, but the headache was too distracting.

"Can I get something for this headache?", she asked.

"Of course." Bashir disappeared for a moment, then returned. Tanner felt the cool touch of metal against her neck and then the quick, cold injection entering her bloodstream.

"Thank you," she said.

He nodded and moved away again. Tanner waited the few minutes it took for the analgesic to kick in, then rolled over carefully, watching Bashir as he ran some quick tests, a disapproving expression on his face. Tanner, her mind back under her control, went through what had happened that day leading up to her collapse.

When she remembered what had been the cause, her eyes widened.

"What is it?", Bashir asked.

"Computer, is there anyone else in the infirmary? Aside from Doctor Bashir and myself," she asked.

"Lieutenant Ashad and Ensign Nadir," the computer replied.

Tanner looked questioningly up at Bashir.

"Two of my nurses," he replied.

She nodded.

"Computer, establish an alert perimeter of five meters around Doctor Bashir and myself."

"Acknowledged," the computer said as Bashir gave her a confused look.

"Shan?", he asked.

She sat up carefully, brushing off his attempts to get her to lie back down, and met his eyes squarely.

"There's something I need to know, Julian," she said.

He shook his head once, slightly, frowning.

Taking a deep breath, Tanner brought her mind to heal, focusing her concentration easily, then reached out and put her thumb against Bashir's cheek and her first two fingers on his forehead. She closed her eyes, gathering courage, then opened them again.

"My mind to your mind," she said quietly but firmly. "My thoughts to your thoughts. Our thoughts are one. Our minds are one."

And there was suddenly nothing between them. Tanner could hear the babble of background thoughts in his mind, the very strong, very vocal _"What the hell?"_ that was at the forefront of his thoughts.

His confusion was her own, his disbelief was indistinguishable from hers.

She could feel everything he felt. There was the subtle, constant anxiety that someone would find out about the genetic engineering, the depth of friendship and respect he had for her, the utter confusion and irritation that he didn't know what was going on, the fear that came with something unknown and unexpected, something which should have been impossible.

It was enough.

She pulled her hand back and they stared at each other, frozen for a moment. Part of Tanner's mind knew they must look ridiculous, but her own shock wouldn't let her move to tear her gaze from Bashir's.

"That's not possible," he whispered. "You have no Vulcan ancestry. I checked."

"I know," she replied quietly.

He took a deep breath and that broke part of the tension. Bashir pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

"I ran every test–", he started, then cut himself off, realization dawning on his face. "No, I didn't."

"What?", Tanner asked. "What didn't you do?"

"A genome sequence," he replied. "It never even occurred to me, but it might…"

He trailed off, snagging a tricorder and flipping it open. Bashir scanned her quickly, then hurried over to a console and began downloading the information.

"How long will this take?", Tanner asked.

"A few hours, at least," he replied, glancing over his shoulder.

"Do I need to stay here?"

Bashir turned back to her, frowning slightly.

"You did collapse," he pointed out.

"Yes, but now we know why."

"If not how," he agreed. "Still, I think I should keep you here for observation."

"What kind of observation?", Tanner said sharply.

Bashir looked taken aback.

"Shan, what's happened to you has never happened to any human before."

"That we know of," she contradicted. "Julian, you have the information you need. Why do need me here?"

"I am your doctor," he replied.

"And is there any medical reason I need to stay?"

He looked slightly flustered.

"The computer will run the sequence. It's not as if I need to stay so you can scan each base pair one at a time," she pointed out.

Bashir sighed, tapping the console absently.

"Well– it would be nice to have you around for company," he said. "It's been eleven months since we've seen each other and this visit hasn't been the most– relaxing."

Tanner sighed.

"Then let the computer do the work. You can't do anything anyway, and you know you can set it to contact you when the sequencing is done." She paused, sighing. "Look, Julian, this is happening to me. It's confusing and kind of frightening. I don't want to be treated like a lab specimen. Whatever your test turns up, I have to live with this, and this is still my life. I don't want to stay here. I want to work and enjoy my time off and spend time with you."

Bashir blinked at her, then nodded slowly.

"All right. What did you have in mind?"

Tanner spread her hands.

"A drink? A game of racquetball– and don't say it! Don't say I'm not well enough for a game of racquetball. Because if I really weren't, you'd be all over the chance to trounce me."

Crossing his arms, Bashir grinned.

"Are you telling me that in your eleven months with the Vulcans, you were able to practice?"

Tanner smiled back, sweetly.

"Commander Sokath spent five years at the Venutian research station, as a visiting scientist. He learned to play, and he's good."

Bashir's lips twitched.

"I still think you're going to be rusty. You're on. Computer, restrict access to this test to Julian Bashir, authorization Bashir-alpha-three-one-four. Notify me when the test is complete."

"Acknowledged," the computer replied.

"All right," Bashir said, smiling at Tanner. "Let's go."


	4. Chapter 4

4

"Here's our culprit," Bashir said, and couldn't keep the grim hint from his voice.

Tanner looked at the medical display, then at him.

"You'll have to explain," she said.

He pointed to a single base pair sequence, which the computer had enlarged and highlighted for him.

"You have a mutation in one of the sequences that defines your brain. This," he keyed in some commands, "Is what most humans would have, but you don't."

Tanner studied it, frowning slightly.

"So, do Kevin and Meg have it? Or one of my parents?"

Bashir shook his head.

"I don't know. I'd have to run a genome sequence on them, and without them here, that's impossible. It may very well be that this is genetic, or it may be just in you."

She gave him a long, careful look.

"And you think this is why I'm a telepath?", she asked.

Bashir blinked, surprised. That was the first time he had heard the idea put into words, and so clearly at that.

He nodded.

"Yes."

"So why is this only happening now? Why haven't I been this way all of my life? I can tell you honestly that I've never heard your thoughts before."

"Well," he said, then sighed. "I'm not really sure, but I have a theory."

"Let's hear it."

He turned to face her, and reminded himself that she was still the same woman he'd known for eleven years, and that this genetic anomaly had been riding around in her brain since before she was born.

"It's possible that the gene was dormant until something triggered it. In this case, given that it's activating areas of your brain that are normally inactive, and that it's happened during your time on a Vulcan ship, I think that the meditation training did it."

Tanner considered that, then nodded slowly.

"But why wouldn't I have noticed this sooner? Why am I picking up thoughts here, but I wasn't on the _T'Kail_?"

"Well, I know a bit about Vulcans," Bashir said, "And I know that they have very tight, very well maintained mental defenses. Telepaths generally do; they have to, or else their minds wouldn't be under their control. And since Vulcans are experts at self control, it's entirely possible that your mutation had been triggered, but they were keeping you out by habit. Here, on the other hand, we're mostly non-telepaths. Most of us don't have very good control over our minds, not to mention a complete lack of telepathic shields. You said you heard voices, whispering; did any of them seem familiar to you from the crew of the _T'Kail_?"

"No," Tanner said.

"I seriously doubt that you would hear them no matter what. Same with Betazoids. Or even a telepathically resistant species like the Ferengi."

Tanner considered that, then nodded slowly.

"I suppose I'm going to need some training. T'Sarak might be the best person, and at least I wouldn't have to deal with any surprise from her."

"Provided you could get her to stay on Earth," Bashir said.

Tanner shot him a questioning look.

"What?", she asked. "Why Earth?"

"Well, Starfleet medical is going to want to examine you, I'm certain. This is unprecedented, Shan. They're going to want to know–"

"No," Tanner cut in sharply.

"What?", Bashir asked.

"No. You aren't going to tell them."

He stared at her.

"What do you mean? Shan, if your parents or siblings have this gene, this could be a huge medical breakthrough. If your family has it, then maybe others have it, too. This might even be the next step in human evolution."

She stared at him, shocked.

"But this is my condition," she insisted. "You're the one who told me that. And I'm not giving you permission to tell anyone. You discovered this as my doctor, Julian, and I'm holding you to that now."

"What do you mean? We've got to tell Starfleet medical– this is amazing! They'll want to know everything about it!"

"That's the problem!"

"What do you mean?", Bashir asked.

Tanner shook her head, making a sharp gesture with her hands.

"I don't want to be a lab rat, Julian. I don't want to be studied for the rest of my life, and I certainly don't want to inflict that on my family or some stranger that might have the same mutation."

"But if this is the next evolutionary step–"

"If this is the next evolutionary step, how many people do you think have it now? I took some evolutionary biology courses at the academy and I know you had to. You know the transition from having wisdom teeth to not having them is still in progress, and that began over ten thousand years ago! How many people do you think could possibly have this mutation? Maybe I'm the very first. But even if I'm not, even if people have had it for hundreds of years and didn't have the advantage of Vulcan meditation, it won't make any difference. Because the number of people will still be too small to be significant. And you _know_ that we can't genetically treat infants to have this mutation. What would Starfleet medical do with me?"

"Well–", Bashir started hesitantly, "A lot more than I can do here. They could figure out how it works, and you could be trained to use it–"

"To what end?", Tanner demanded. "I don't want to be an intelligence officer, Julian." She paused, glancing at the door for a moment, then back at him. "I was approached about that once, and God knows I have the intellect for it, but I don't _want_ to be a spy. I don't want Starfleet using me in diplomatic negotiations or sending me off to see if the Klingons or the Cardassians are lying to us, or back to the Gamma Quadrant to spy on the Dominion. I'm a _scientist_, Julian. An astrophysicist. That's what I want to do. That's what I've always wanted to do." She paused again, taking a deep breath. "If you tell them, they won't let me be that. They'll take away my commission and make me do what they want me to do. And if I refuse, or if I run, I'll be a fugitive. They'll make me a thing, not a person. They'll want to use me as a weapon."

Bashir stared at her a moment, looking slightly taken aback.

"You don't know that–", he began.

Tanner gave a quick, sharp shake of her head.

"What would you do if you were a head doctor at SFM and you came across someone like me? What would you do if you were in charge of Starfleet Intelligence?"

Bashir paused, and Tanner nodded.

"Right," she said.

"But you can't be certain–"

"I can be certain enough not to give up this information," she retorted. She paused, then narrowed her eyes slightly. "Don't make me order you, Julian."

This time, he looked particularly startled; it was the first time she had ever pulled rank on him. Tanner turned and strode from the room, not trusting herself to say anything else. It had been a long time since she had felt so conflicted: angry and frightened and frustrated all at the same time. It was an unwelcome sensation; eleven months with the Vulcans had taught her to find balance in each day, and, because Vulcans were as unemotional as they were, there had been no need for the turbid emotions Tanner felt now.

She took a deep breath to calm herself as she left the infirmary, and headed left, not for any particular reason, but on the basis that if she stopped, Bashir might come after her and catch up with her, and she knew that, now, they might both say things they'd regret later.

"Computer!", she snapped, startled by the clipped tone of her voice, "Locate Lieutenant T'Sarak."

* * *

Lieutenant T'Sarak entered Quark's and glanced around, unable to immediately locate the person she had come to find. She approached the bar and the Ferengi looked up from cleaning a glass.

"What'll it be?", he asked.

"I do not want anything to drink," she replied. "I am looking for Doctor Bashir."

Quark nodded to the spiral staircase that led up to the second level.

"Just follow the cloud of gloom," he replied.

T'Sarak gave him a puzzled glance, then realized he was referring to Bashir's current emotional state. She raised her eyes to the mezzanine and saw Bashir alone at a table in a dark corner, hunched over a drink.

"Thank you," she said to the Ferengi and headed toward the stairs.

Bashir only noticed her when she sat down in the chair opposite him. He looked exhausted, and she supposed he had been battling himself, as humans so often did.

"I take it Shan sent you," he said, bypassing any greeting.

"She asked me to come; she did not send me," T'Sarak replied evenly. "She was quite upset when I spoke to her." Pausing, T'Sarak raised an eyebrow as only a Vulcan could. "I have never seen her so upset, particularly in the last year."

Bashir grimaced.

"I get your point," he muttered.

"But I am not sure you see hers," T'Sarak replied.

"Ah, so you know all about it."

"Logically."

Bashir sat back with a disgruntled sigh.

"It's not like this is something minor!", he said, shaking his head. "This is a huge discovery–"

"No," T'Sarak interrupted.

He blinked.

"What?"

"No, this is not a huge discovery. This is a person."

"I mean the genetic anomaly," Bashir said. "As far as we know, no human has ever had this before."

"As far as we know," T'Sarak emphasized. "But it is irrelevant."

"Is it?", Bashir pressed.

"You're a doctor," T'Sarak said evenly. "You understand the principles of evolutionary biology, I'm sure. If Shannon is the first, then others will be sparse for hundreds, if not thousands, of years."

Bashir sighed.

"That's what she said," he said, eyes cast down to his drink.

T'Sarak leaned forward, one hand flat on the table, her gaze piercing him until he looked up to meet her eyes. They were dark and bright, typical Vulcan eyes.

"I do not need to remind you about doctor-patient confidentiality, Julian," she said. "I'm aware that that can be disregarded in the necessary circumstances. I believe that this is not a decision Shannon can force you to make, no matter how much she would like to, and how much medical ethics should bind you. You must choose knowing what the choice will mean to Shannon. Because if you tell Starfleet Medical, you sentence her to a lifetime of being studied."

"You make it sound as if they'd dehumanize her! She would be treated with dignity, she'd be immensely important to the doctors there–"

T'Sarak rose from her chair, leaning down so that her eyes were not quite level with him.

"There is a human saying about being a bird in a gilded cage, I believe," she said. "Think very carefully about how you would like to be treated if you had such a secret."

"Is that a threat?", Bashir said, bristling obviously.

T'Sarak arched an eyebrow.

"A suggestion," she replied, and walked away before he could reply, leaving him staring after her in shock.

* * *

Bashir stood by one of the viewports in upper pylon three, gazing blankly out at the stars, toward where he knew the wormhole was, even though it wasn't visible at the moment.

A thousand thoughts swirled around his tired brain; despite his genetic enhancements, he felt like his mind was going too fast for him to keep up, and it was impossible to slow it down. Before him lay two paths, one of which his duty bound him to take, the other to which his friendship and sense of ethics tied him.

He closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Images and memories from the past eleven years assailed him. He could remember the first day he had met Tanner, remember the way she looked after the racquetball coach had called off their match, both of them breathing hard, she looking exhilarated.

He remembered when she had graduated at the top of her class, and the valedictorian speech she had given, and the excitement in her eyes when she had told him she'd received the assignment she wanted on the _Soto_. He remembered how she had made it back the next year to be at his graduation, and how thrilled he had been to see her again. He remembered how excited she had been for him to learn he had been assigned to Deep Space Nine. He remembered he stepping off the ill-fated USS _Voyager_, her first time on DS9, and how the two years since he has last seen her had barely seemed to change her. Tanner had seemed as vibrant and enthusiastic as ever, perhaps more so, in anticipation of her mission with the Vulcans. Even at the time, Bashir had understood what an honour that was; the Vulcan Science Council only accepted alien scientists whom they held in the highest of regards. But, at the age of twenty-nine, Tanner was already one of the top researchers in her field.

Bashir remembered so many things, large and small. He remembered that Tanner had been there, over a subspace link, to support him when he had broken up with his girlfriend before leaving Earth. He remembered a trip to the Martian outback they had taken with several other Starfleet cadets, and looking up at Olympus Mons for the first time.

And he remembered telling her about the genetic enhancements, the first of his friends he had ever told. She had taken it in stride, pointing out to him that he did not seem hell bent on taking over the Federation, or to have any of personality disorders so many other enhanced people developed.

Bashir sighed, opening his eyes again, remembering vividly T'Sarak's even, calm expression as she suggested he think about his choices.

How could he, in good conscience, turn Tanner in after she had kept his secret for years?

"Doctor?", a voice said, startling him from his thoughts. Bashir jerked slightly and turned to see Odo standing behind him.

"Constable," Bashir returned, nodding.

"Are you all right?"

Bashir wanted to negate that, but nodded instead.

"Yes, fine."

"What are you doing here at this time of night?", the security chief.

"I was just– thinking," Bashir said. "I have a lot on my mind."

Odo gave him a calculating look, then nodded slightly.

"All right," he said, and turned to leave. Bashir watched the constable leave, then sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily.

"Computer, time," he requested.

"Oh-two hundred six," the computer droned.

"Dammit," Bashir muttered. He had to start his duty shift at oh-six hundred. He headed down to his quarters, hoping to catch a couple hours of sleep, at least, but when he arrived, there was a message awaiting him on his comscreen. With a sigh, Bashir flicked it on and found a reply from Doctor David Bearns. Carefully, Bashir read through it, unable to fight the relief he felt that Bearns had sent along only studies Bashir had already seen. There was nothing in there that matched the brain activity that Tanner exhibited.

He sat back in his chair, staring blankly at the screen, then shut it off. Rubbing his eyes wearily, Bashir rose and headed into his bedroom, taking off his uniform jacket before sinking onto the mattress. He ordered the lights off and lay in the darkness, drifting off to sleep.

"All right," Tanner said and Bashir jerked, looking over at her, then realized he must be dreaming. She was younger, and her hair was much shorter than it was now, and she wore a cadet uniform, that unflattering gray and blue.

"All right?", he asked. "That's it?"

"What else do you want me to say, Julian?", she asked, shrugging one shoulder.

"You're not disgusted?"

"What? Disgusted? Why?"

"I'm a mutant, Shan."

"Now _that_ disgusts me, Julian. You are _not_ a mutant."

"My genetic structure was altered. That makes me a mutant."

She stared at him, and he shifted uncomfortably.

"Is that how you see yourself?", she asked, her voice sharp. "You were genetically enhanced. Every gene you have is still human, it just operates at a higher efficiency that most people."

Bashir stood, covering his mouth with his hands.

"Than all people," he said somewhat indistinguishably.

Tanner stood as well.

"Are you trying to isolate yourself, Julian?"

"You don't know what it's like to be different like this, Shan," he insisted.

She gave a short, sharp laugh and, startled, he looked over at her.

"Do you realize who you're talking to, Julian?", she asked, shaking her head. "By the time I was three years old, I could read. By the time I was five, I was learning the multiplication tables and was put into an advanced learning program. Julian, my mother is one of the foremost mathematicians in the Federation, and my father helped design the sustainable warp nine-point-nine engine. When I was seventeen, my IQ was tested and is one of the highest in recent record. I _know_ what it's like to be different like this! All right, maybe if you ask me the square route of seventy-one I have to say eight and a bit, and you could get it instantly, but that doesn't make you the smartest person ever, and it certainly doesn't make you alone."

He glared at her.

"When I was six, I was still struggling with the difference between a house and a cat! When I was seven, I was in an advanced program. When you were three, you could already speak two languages."

"So? Just because I was born this way and you came into it later doesn't make you better than everyone else, or more alone. Julian, do you _want_ to be isolated? Do you want this to stand between us? Because I really don't care that you were enhanced. It wasn't your choice and it obviously turned out well. I've never seen an ounce of overambition in you, no desire to control everything and impose your will on everyone. You're a good person, Julian Bashir. Why can't you accept that I think that?"

Bashir was silent for a moment.

"This really won't change your opinion of me?"

"Of course it does, but it doesn't make my opinion bad. Now I know more about you. It's just something that is. Jules."

He sighed.

"Jules Bashir died when he was six, Shan. That's why I don't let anyone call me that."

"He didn't die, he just became what he was meant to be. But I won't call you that if you don't like it."

He just shook his head, frustrated.

"You don't get to decide for me what I think about this, or about you," Tanner said fiercely. "And you're my best friend. Do you think I'd drop you like a hot reactor coil just because of something that happened to you when you were a kid? Did you think I'd consider you a fraud? The Julian Bashir I've always known has always stayed his course and wanted only one thing from his life: to be a doctor. Is telling me this supposed to change that? Or anything? I don't think you're a fraud and I think you belong in Starfleet, Julian. We'd be worse for the loss of you. And you'd be worse for the loss of your dream."

Bashir sighed, rubbing his chin.

"Did you think telling me would make me run off and rat on you? Come on, Julian, you know me better than that. This isn't some sick little secret that means you should be removed from society. This is just you. And if there were something strange or secret about me that you knew, I'd expect you not to hold it against me, because you are my friend, and _that_ is the only thing that should matter."

He woke up and stared toward the ceiling in the darkness, seeing not the faint shadows that defined the bedroom, but Tanner's younger face, her eyes blazing, her jaw set.

Slowly, Bashir sat up and rubbed his eyes, before checking the time. He had half an hour before he normally would have woken up, so he made no move to leave the bed, just stared blankly in the darkened space in front of him.

He couldn't count how many times he had played that conversation over and over in his head in the past several years. It meant much to him to know that at least one person out there knew him for all he really was, and liked him all the same. Tanner had never so much as hinted she might reveal his secret, even now, when he was threatening to reveal hers.

"Ah, Julian," he said to himself, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose.

He realized only now that his refusal to talk to anyone about Tanner's genetic anomaly, except T'Sarak, who already knew, had been a sign from some ignored part of his mind. He didn't want to tell anyone. He thought he should, and he had been excited by the prospect of what Tanner's genetic mutation meant.

But, behind that, some part of him had been screaming at him to leave it. Because it was Tanner. Because she was a person. She was his friend.

And the whole time he had known her, she'd also stayed her course and had only wanted one thing as well. That one thing was different, but the drive and the intelligence were there without doubt. How could he condemn her to a life she didn't want, when she had steadfastly refused to do the same to him?

With a heartfelt sigh, Bashir rose from his bed and took the time to prepare properly for his duty shift. He could have used more sleep, and, as a doctor, he knew perfectly well that sleeping more the next night wouldn't make up for it; it didn't work that way. But he had other things to do.

After cleaning up and dressing, he stood in the livingroom of his quarters, rubbing his hands together.

"Computer, locate Lieutenant Commander Shannon Tanner," he instructed.

"Lieutenant Commander Tanner is in her quarters," the computer replied.

With a curt nod to himself, Bashir left his quarters and strode through the habitat ring until he reached Tanner's guest quarters. He sounded the buzzer and was rewarded a minute later with a freshly woken Tanner evaluating him carefully.

"Yes?", she asked. He'd always admired the way she never seemed groggy when interrupted in the middle of the night.

"I was wrong," he said plainly.

Tanner stared at him for a moment, then backed away, motioning for him to come in. Bashir did, and the door shut and locked behind him.

"All right," Tanner said.

"No, not all right. Shan, I am so sorry." He grasped her upper arms lightly. "But I promise that no one will ever find out from me. You promised me the same thing once, and how could I do this to you? You're my friend."

A small smile tugged at the corner of Tanner's lips and she nodded, then opened her arms and pulled him into a hug. Bashir hugged back, feeling the full weight of the relief of his decision.

"I can alter your medical records," he said when they'd pulled apart. "To make it look like these readings are normal for you, that you've had them your whole life and that they've been investigated before and are just a superficial anomaly."

Tanner raised her eyebrows.

"Will that work?"

"I can make it work," Bashir assured her. "Starfleet doctors trust Starfleet medical records. Unless you get a really suspicious bastard, you'll be fine. And even then, you don't have to be examined if you chose not to be; after all, this won't look like an abnormal condition for you."

Tanner smiled fully now, shaking her head.

"I hope the head doctor on the _Blessing Way_ isn't a suspicious bastard."

"What his name? Or hers?"

"He. Doctor Fahad el Naser."

Bashir frowned a moment at the familiarity of the name, then snapped his fingers.

"I know him! Do you remember the man in my class from the UAE?"

Tanner thought a moment.

"The tall one? Who played the cello?"

"That's him. Graduated fifth. He's a good man, Shan. You could trust him if you need to."

At that, Tanner smiled.

"Good," she said. "That's good to know." She paused. "Well, since you woke me up at this ungodly hour, how would you like to buy me breakfast?"

Bashir's face relaxed into a smile.

"You're on."

"Great. Give me a minute."

She vanished and came back a few minutes later in her uniform, twisting her long hair into a braid. They left her quarters and headed for the promenade together, two of the strangest humans in the galaxy, but, at the moment, Bashir felt more normal and more himself than he ever had.


End file.
